Soooo....I got orders to go to Norfolk, Virginia. Not sure how I feel about it. I mean, it WAS on my "dream sheet" but it was my THIRD choice! Oh well.
It's something new so hopefully it will give me some interesting things to talk about, because as of now, I have nothing. Anyway, I gotta run to class but I'll be back. Later blogger peeps.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Friday, September 16, 2011
I told y'all these new roommates were going to be a problem. One of them tried me already.
Let me back up and introduce them. There's one who's tiny and petite, so I'll call her Tiny. The other is from Chicago and her name from this point will be Yeezy. The other one...I haven't thought of a name for her yet, but she's not a part of this story so it doesn't matter.
So. Tiny is pretty young and seems to be concerned with having a man to call her own. She had a boyfriend back home, but he started acting up so they broke things off and now she is spending time with a couple guys on base. One of the guys that she's digging has been here since back when I reported to "A" school, and seems to be a player (or at least wants to be one). As a matter of fact, he was kicking it hard with my LAST roommate that moved out a couple months before Tiny and my other roommates got here.
Apparently Mr. Player saw Tiny studying with another guy and got tight about it. This led to an exchange of text messages with him accusing Tiny of acting "funny" towards him. Tiny insisted that she wasn't acting funny and told him she didn't want to be bothered if he was going to act like that with her. I assured her he wasn't worth the headache and gave her the scoop on his reputation.
As we're talking, Yeezy walks in the room and catches the end of our conversation. She asks if the boy that we're talking about lives in the same building as we do. Tiny says yes, then Yeezy wants to know who it is. Tiny hesitates a bit, then says she will tell Yeezy later. We finish talking, then Tiny leaves the room.
Immediately, Yeezy asks me, "Who were y'all talking about?" By now, I'm engaged in a game of "Words with Friends" and I'm more concerned about getting a double word score than indulging Yeezy's appetite for gossip. I tell her to hold on a minute. Suddenly she snaps, "If it's a secret, you don't have to tell me."
I look up and tell her, "It's not a secret, but that's Tiny's business, and if she wants you to know, she can tell you."
That's not good enough though. Yeezy then repeats, "Yeah, but you don't have to tell me if it's a secret."
Since we're playing that game, I repeat myself AGAIN and tell her that Tiny can tell her if she wants her to know. Then Yeezy shuts the fuck up and goes to sleep. I can't say I'm surprised that she went there. In the couple weeks that she's been here, Yeezy has told me about a couple incidents where she "went in" on people for not doing what she wanted, and she seems like the type of person that gets impatient when people don't do what she wants WHEN she wants, but I'm not the one for that bullshit. I had planned to tell her who we were talking about, but since she couldn't be bothered with waiting for five seconds, I decided to let her ask Tiny if she really wanted to know. The way Tiny hesitated, it didn't sound like she wanted Yeezy in her business anyway.
Which brings me to today. Yeezy hasn't said a word to me. Hmm. Ask me if I give a fuck. No, really...ask me.
Blogger Fam: "Hey UCB, do you give a fuck if petty girls don't talk to you after getting shut down when they try you?"
UCB: "FUCK NO I don't!"
If things go smoothly, I should be done with the high school bullshit atmosphere in a little over two weeks. Hopefully no one gets too out of pocket before then.
Thursday, September 15, 2011
Where to begin....
Okay, so I rejoined Twitter out of boredom and decided to follow a few random people. A guy I follow had some funny/interesting tweets and a website with some insightful posts. As I was looking through my timeline last night, I noticed he put up a new blog post. I went to the site, only to see that the post was actually written by a guest blogger, because the website moderator occasionally likes to show love to fellow bloggers. Cool. Nothing wrong with that.
The post was titled "Idris Elba Doesn't Know You." I should have known things could only go downhill from there. The author is addressing Twitter "heaux" (a fancy term for hoes....I guess) who tweet about all the sinful things they would do if they met Idris Elba, Trey Songz, or any other male sex symbol. He states that women can't go crazy over these celebs and expect to still be considered "wife material." Apparently finding a celebrity attractive makes one's "pussy value" go down and less worthy of being respected by "regular niggas."
The author goes on to say that men have celebrity crushes too, but it's not the same as women, because guys realize that they will never meet the celebrity in real life, whereas women usually refer to a celeb as their "boo." In conclusion, he lets women know not to expect a wedding ring if they are willing to have a one-night stand with their favorite celeb.
Oh...and then he posts a music video...or mixtape track...or something. I didn't bother pressing play.
Of course I had to voice my opinion. I commented, saying it's ludicrous to accuse a woman of being a "heaux" just because she has a crush on a celebrity. Moments later, the website moderator commented back, telling me that I was reading "too deep" into it and that the post was meant to be humorous; that it was up to me whether I laughed or not. Well...I didn't laugh because 1. The shit wasn't funny, and 2. It never ceases to annoy me when someone exhibits blatant misogyny/hatred and when they're called out on it, their defense is that the person calling them out didn't "get" the joke. No sir, I don't "get" it, because there's nothing to "get."
I'm often accused of looking too deeply into things and maybe sometimes I do, but I would rather do that than take everything for face value when it's obvious that someone is trying to insult me on the low. Anyone who has followed this blog long enough knows that my celebrity eye candy of choice is Michael Ealy, and when/if I ever meet him, if he's as charming as he is in his movies, hell yeah I would holla. But somehow that makes me a whore?? Meanwhile, average Joe over here can go on for hours about how bad he would "beat it up" if he ever met Rihanna, but it's cool because he knows he won't REALLY meet her.
Fuck outta here.